Barren
by zorro x
Summary: Some time in the future, two men stand vigil over an unknown grave... Better than it sounds, or at least I think so- not that I'm biased, of course. It's pretty random, but I think it's short and relatively sweet. Just a break from the war waging in the f


**_A Break From Reality_**  
  
Disclaimer: I own none of it. I'm assuming that the people who do own Harry and his friends have better things to do than read poorly written fanfic anyway, but just in case, I'm stating that none of this is mine.   
  
  
  
  
  
Life was a bitch, and then you died. And watched those you loved die around you- falling like flies, flitting in and out of life. Fragile butterfly wings carrying higher, higher- then crumbling into dust and leaving the bodies to fall to earth and shatter, sinking into in oblivion. There was no point in crying any more- there would never be enough tears in the world to express the despair that ate at him.   
  
This last was simply another plain grave, another meaningless loss to add to an ever-growing list. He hadn't even known the girl that well- she was three years ahead of him at school, and in a different house. He couldn't even remember her name, but didn't need it, having long since memorized the pained contours of her unmoving face. She was a nameless corpse in an unmarked grave, and he a dry-eyed hero, but the color of her eyes would haunt him forever.   
  
He left a flower on the plain gravestone, a single white lily with an everlasting charm. It stood in stark relief against the dismal background, dirt that no longer bore more than the faintest semblance of life. There were no mourners save him- the only ones who would have wept dead alongside her. She had been so young... Too young to dedicate her life to fighting. Too young to die for a cause, however noble.   
  
Standing all alone in the graveyard, he suddenly felt amazingly, inexplicably, old. Felt the weight he'd once born so easily pressing him down, breaking his will and bending his steel backbone. The urge to curl into a ball and lock himself away from the world, forget he had ever heard of magic. But he couldn't abandon his world, his friends, his battles. He couldn't abandon his enemy.   
  
He watched 20 year-old witches and wizards blaze in glory and burn out, and swore that every single one of them was too young to fight. Far too young to die. It had once been pointed out to him that he wasn't even that- the savior of the wizarding world, not even old enough to legally drink. But old enough to fight, and plot, and surely old enough to die.   
  
There was a crunch of booted heels on the dead ground. He tensed, but didn't make a move to fight off the intruder. He had been expecting him, after all, and made no move to acknowledge the presence of the man behind him. They were silent for a moment, soaking up the momentary companionship eagerly. The silence was blessed- there were no screams or crashes to stir the graveyard into life.   
  
Tonks is asking for you, The newcomer said finally, reluctantly, his warm voice sounding empty in the open air.   
  
Of course she is, The first man said absently. Why are you here? The question came out tiredly, wearily, but with no trace of accusation.  
  
I'm worried about you. It isn't healthy to spend so much time in the company of corpses. The voice was friendly, but it overlaid the trace of concern, the hint of sternness.   
  
What does healthy matter, really? I only have to hold together long enough to stop Him. This was delivered in a hollow, matter-of-fact tone.  
  
And will you? The challenge was soft, the mist of chilled breath the only movement among the tombstones. Will you? And once this is over, what then? Will you wander among graves until you rot?   
  
If I'm still alive when this is over, I'm going back to my relatives and asking them politely to please lock me in my cupboard. And I'm never coming out.   
  
I'd miss you. The first man swiveled to look at the intruder, with a sad half-smile on his prematurely lined face.   
  
You would, He agreed. But it doesn't matter. Some days I doubt that this will ever be over...   
  
It will be, The second said and the first turned away once more. It has to be.   
  
But how many will die? He whispered. How many children will fall? No parent should ever have to bury their child...   
  
The other agreed. They shouldn't. And no teacher should ever stand vigil over a fallen student...   
  
Did you teach her? The first asked, watching the imposing stain of the grave. You had her that one year, right? Did you know her?   
  
Enough to grieve, His friend said quietly. Enough to mourn. And I refuse to leave you here to fall apart.   
  
I'll be in in a moment, The first said. Honestly. There are a million things I need to do. But I had to- He paused. Had to take a moment to remember why I'm fighting.   
  
There was a silence that stretched for an eternity. Neither man was willing to break it with meaningless platitudes and thoughtless consolation. Finally, the younger man broke the silence. Full moon in nine days.   
  
I know.  
  
I know you know. There was a hint of amusement in the voice. If I can get away, I'll go with you.   
  
You don't have to. Stella managed to brew some Wolfsbane. I'll be fine. But there was a flavor of gratitude that belied the words.   
  
I want to. Sometimes even I need to howl at the moon... He let his voice trail off. Tonks was looking for me?   
  
Yeah. Something about a ministry scandal- I don't know, I wasn't paying much attention. He sounded slightly sheepish.   
  
I'd better find her, then. He sighed, his responsibilities pressing him in a suffocating clasp. In yet another abrupt subject change, he asked suddenly, Isn't Severus buried buried somewhere nearby?  
  
Yeah. He's got a corner off that way, He gestured absently, but the other didn't bother to look, nodding his knowledge.   
  
I miss him. I never thought I'd say that, but I do. He exhaled sadly, burying his hands in his pockets. It's easier to sink into despair without him to fuel my rage. He let loose a bark of unamused laughter.   
  
He was rather good at that, wasn't he? And to think, you once swore you'd never miss him when he died.   
  
Things change... His voice grew distant once more. It's all one goddamned cycle, but things change... We'll break the loop. I'll kill the bastard.  
  
I'm counting on it. Both of their voices had grown grim, hard. The second man's tone lightened slightly after a minute. We should get going.  
  
The world weary hero sighed. Yeah, all right. I just- He sighed again, shaking his head slightly. Never mind. Let's go. I shouldn't be here to begin with. He turned to leave, the older man catching him and throwing an arm around his shoulders.   
  
Let's get out of here, then. There's nothing more we can do. The graying head rested softly against his younger friends raven locks, heads pressed together in a strange parody of school children sharing secrets and spreading rumors.   
  
And behind them, a single white lily gleamed forever in the dwindling light, marking an unseen grave, mourning a fallen soldier. And the sun set, and the moon rose, and the world changed.   



End file.
